


Undercover

by alltoseek



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1247728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many secrets are revealed at the pool. An alternate ending to The Great Game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [thegameison_sh](thegameison_sh.livejournal.com) [prompt](http://thegameison-sh.livejournal.com/51679.html) "Undercover Fics".

John listened with great scepticism. He'd been referred to this retired army officer, now some sort of liaison between MI5 and the Met, by the officer processing his discharge, saying the colonel could offer important work to him, but to John this Met-MI5-whatever sounded like a complete nutter.

“Why me? I'm not a detective – I've no training in any kind of police work.”

The colonel smiled grimly. “Perhaps not. But you have several qualities that are extremely helpful in this situation. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the target – and even more, the target's brother – the police cannot be involved directly, nor anyone with formal detective training.”

“The _brother_ too?” _What the hell was this?_

~*~

After Donovan's warning, John understood the concern about Sherlock. After his encounter with Mycroft, he conceded the issue regarding 'the brother' as well. What had started out like a cross between James Bond and the Brothers Grimm suddenly seemed all too plausible.

But after a couple of month's living with Sherlock, John just could not see it himself. Sherlock was cold and distant at times, sure, could be callous, manipulative, even cruel on occasion. But _murder?_ Terribly unlike the detective. He wanted to solve the mysteries left by criminals; he really had no interest in creating puzzles for others. Neither did he have any concern for 'getting away' with anything. Sherlock loved attention – he'd no desire to hide his accomplishments.

No, John was certain Sherlock was not a serial killer; and that's what he planned to tell his contact before going to Sarah's for tea.

~*~

“Ah ah ah, Sherlock, m'dear, before you pull that trigger I have something ~interesting~ to tell you,” Moriarty sang out high and clear. 

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, “What – ”

“Something about your _pet_ ,” Moriarty spat the last word.

_Fuck, here it comes,_ thought John. He'd walked right into a trap when he'd entered Col. Moran's office. To his surprise, 'Jim' was there, and the consulting criminal proceeded to explain everything to him. In excruciating detail.

“John is not my 'pet',” Sherlock's calm tones contrasted sharply with Moriarty's intense dramatics. John had long felt that his friend was over his head in this encounter but Sherlock's continued steadiness in the face of Moriarty's insanity heartened him.

“No, he isn't, is he? _Pet_ ,” he said, looking down where John had remained crouching.

“He's not anyone's 'pet'. He is – ”

“A colleague? A friend? A brave loyal companion? Certainly. But whose?”

“Explain yourself.” Sherlock's eyes flickered briefly towards John.

“Well, John, darling? Will you or shall I?”

_Speak! Confess – better you do it than Moriarty –_ But John could not begin to come up with an explanation. How he could have been so _stupid_. His heart hammered in his throat. Words would not come.

“Oh, very well. I'll have to do it myself. Dear John has been spying on _you_ for _me_.”

“ _No!_ Not – Christ, I didn't know! Sherlock, _I didn't know_.”

“No, you thought it was for a special police unit, hmm? MI5 even? So adorable in his earnest idiocy, isn't he? Wouldn't spy for Big Brother for money, but fed me all kinds of fascinating tidbits for _free_. Doing his civic duty – gave an arm and a leg for Queen and Country and that still wasn't enough. Life so _booorrrrring_ ; he was such a _nothing_. I gave him something _useful to do!_ Spy on the dangerous Sherlock Holmes. Brilliant, mad, possible serial killer Sherlock Holmes!”

“John – this is true?” Sherlock's face wore that same expression – the one John had seen when he'd first said 'Evening'. Except the shock and the surprise were now tempered with disgust.

John nodded, painfully, head down. “It was before I'd met you. I was referred to someone – not _him_ – and he explained – Fuck, Sherlock, I know I was naïve, gullible... It was eerie how you knew all about different murders. He said my undercover job had to be so hush-hush because of your brother – that Mycroft spied on everyone around you. That was the dodgiest bit of the whole thing, but you have to admit that part's true...” John trailed off as he looked back up at Sherlock.

Sherlock's arm with the gun had lowered, his face drew back with repugnance. John closed his eyes and slumped. He could hear Moriarty's laugh, and the click of his shoes as he walked away. “Your heart, Sherlock! _I told you I'd burn it out of you!_ ”


End file.
